


We Can Be Heroes - Draco Malfoy

by freybelles



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, F/M, POV Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freybelles/pseuds/freybelles
Summary: 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄But for a moment his eyes just stared into hers, innocence was what he saw. Her coffee eyes were filled with it, he hated that, innocence. He never saw that in someone's eyes, or maybe he had just spent his life looking into the eyes of murderers.- mature content- draco x oc





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PotterHeads](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=PotterHeads).



Draco Malfoy was left with nothing. Well, he was left with his half-alive mother and an inheritance. But he was simply alone, struggling to get out of bed, to complete daily tasks that used to be so simple. 

The post-battle blues weighed heavy on those who lost, the death eaters scared, shaking with fear every night. The possibility of being sent to Azkaban felt like someone constantly knocking on your door, then running away when you opened it. 

His father, his rotten father who he so strongly despised was caged up, rightfully so to many, but he couldn't help but feel as if he'd been lied to- his whole fucking life. 

Dear fucking diary, 

This is so god damn infuriating, being sent back to the hell hole of Hogwarts. Its all Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that. I suppose I should be grateful I wasn't sent back to Azkaban instead sentenced to join the rest of the students for year 8. 

People keep saying I should be grateful, but I'm not. I don't feel an ounce of remorse, it's not like I murdered anyone. Someone has to be pinpointed as evil, always was me from the beginning. 

I'm not fucking daft. 

Draco 

He closed the book, it had thickened over the past few months. The only source of sanity he had was writing it all down. The mind-healer had suggested him to, and for once he listened. He couldn't handle it all, too much death, too many feelings floating around in the pit of his stomach. The dairy was the anchor, reminding him he could stand. Despite losing all sanity he had, he was reminded that at least he could write. 

He felt pathetic, he couldn't even bloody get off anymore. Every time he tried to think of some sort of erotic setting, the face of Voldemort faded into his mind. Or his dark mark burned to make his thoughts ridden of the desire he once had. 

Draco grumbled as Aurors watched him, he could feel their glares on the back of his head. Making sure he entered the Hogwarts Express, not bolting away from his forced punishment. It was all so rich, didn't they have anything better to do? How pathetic that all they had to do was watch over him. He loathed them, they all thought they were so- so bloody heroic. 

He slid nonchalantly into a compartment with Theodore and Blaise, blocking out their stories about how happy their families finally were. Imagine being happy? After everything that's fucking happened, how could you be so selfish? He ignored it instead, scratching his left forearm, trying to rub off his dark mark. He knew it wouldn't leave, but hope made him do it. Curse damn hope. 

"Draco, mate, just leave it." Blaise looked concerned, Draco hated that look. That- that look of pity, and empathy, it was so patronising. 

He looked upwards his stone-cold silver eyes no longer full of the hatred his friends were so familiar to but replaced with pain. It was only then Blaise and Theodore realised how far gone their friend was. His hair was messy, dark- no black circles under his eyes, cheekbones protruding out of his face. He looked like a skull.

"Are you alright?" 

"Fucking goddamn perfect Blaise." 

"It wasn't meant to be patronising Draco."

"I know Blaise, why are you even coming back?"

"I don't know- it felt like a pretty shit year to be our last."  
The blonde grumbled in response.

-

Lyra was abandoned, she was nervous to enter her last year at Hogwarts, given how horrific the last year had been. Although she had a few friends, however, she preferred to surround herself with books, or her imagination. Spending her time playing out fake scenarios in her head. 

It was quite pathetic really. 

Her best friend had left her, transferred to the Australian wizarding school for her last year, Snakebinder Academy. Her parents had found out how bad Hogwarts had become and were frightened, they'd already lost one child, they were not going to lose another. 

And to put it simply, she hated social gatherings, found them rather exhausting. But she held those she loved extremely close to her, always loyal, kind, willing to help. So no, she was not going to make any new friends. Despite what Professor Sprout kept telling her. 

"But dear, your fellow Hufflepuffs would love for you to get to know them."

What rubbish, as if they even knew who she was. 

"Thank you Professor Sprout but I prefer to spend my time alone." 

She remembered that conversation so clearly, every detail she clung to. She wasn't sure why, possibly the feeling of having someone care for her, a feeling she felt only with her parents. 

She traced her chubby finger along the near-frozen window drawing a ragged heart then rubbing it off. Her long brown hair was tied into a messy fishtail braid reaching an inch from her waist. Her bangs covering her larger than average forehead. She hated her appearance, only feeling confident when she was belting The Cure songs.

"May I sit?" Lyra's eyes widened at the words, jumping in her seat. 

"Of course Luna," she smiled at the blonde. She was fond of Luna, she was misjudged by many. They were alike in that way. 

"You haven't happened to of seen my Pigmy Puff have you?"

"Oh, no sorry, I'll make sure to keep an eye out." 

"That's okay, I suspect it was the Nargles." 

Lyra nodded her chubby cheeks lifting as she gave the girl a weak smile, before turning back to the book in her lap.

She was nervous to return, but that was stupid, wasn't it? She shouldn't feel nervous. But she was, the classes would harder, many would-be gone, some dead, some transferred. Hogwarts would never be the same again, or at least it felt like it. 

She would try to smile this time, try to appear interested. But if she was honest, she was rather crap at school. Favouring a few subjects and not caring about the others. She was more socially smart than book smart, despite not having many friends. She knew what to do to make people happy, to cheer them up. She was a good friend, just never given the chance to be a good friend.

Hogwarts looked different, as she has suspected it would. It looked different to him as well. Although both didn't seem to be so fascinated by it all, only remembering how horrible it looked when they last left. 

Lyra loved the sorting ceremony, found it enchanting the way the hat spoke and the reaction of the giggling children. Draco thought it was a waste of bloody time, hating the way Slytherins were booed by the Gryffindors. Oh haha how funny, thinking you're all so high and mighty. They were just a pack of looser with saviour complexes. 

His fists were clenched, not bothering to eat, not caring for the food. It was always the same anyway, chickens, pumpkin flavoured everything- he fucking hated pumpkins. 

"Would you calm down?" Blaise, there we go again, always trying to solve his problems. He unclenched his fists and shoved a piece of cold broccoli into his mouth. 

"Happy?" He said sarcastically, his dark-haired friend rolled his eyes shaking his head.

His eyes drifted to the Hufflepuff table, what a stupid excuse for a house, always being so nice. What an awful way to live, pretending to be nice to people but wanting to carve their eyes out on the insides out. He didn't understand it, how did people do that?

Then his eyes locked with hers, the coffee-coloured eyes querying to why he was even glancing at her. As far as Lyra knew, Draco Malfoy was an utter nuisance. But for a moment his eyes just stared into hers, innocence was what he saw. Her coffee eyes were filled with it, he hated that, innocence. He never saw that in someone's eyes, or maybe he had just spent his life looking into the eyes of murderers. Those eyes were cold and heartless, but hers were warm and big, widening as she raked over the pages of the book in her hands. 

Hatred filled him, how dare she be so oblivious to how sad he was. How could she be so happy when he was so fucking lonely and depressed. 

He didn't even bloody know her, why was he so worked up about it? He blamed it on his father, the selfishness he inherited, it was probably what he loathed most about himself.

"Draco would you stop bloody glaring at that girl!"


	2. Drive Him to Nothing

Suddenly she was everywhere. Everywhere he looked, she was there sitting in the corner, reading or often staring out the window. How could this girl he had never even seen before just suddenly be everywhere?

It was refreshing to focus on something else, maybe that was it. She was something that occurred after the war. A new memory, not a person who when he thought of he saw their face when they witnessed someone they loved suddenly gone. The horror etched onto their faces as he looked into their eyes. Or maybe it was his guilt tricking him into it, manipulating his thought process, just to remind him he's one of them. 

Dear Fucking Diary, 

It's so stupid it really is, but she's so bloody oblivious. What kind of girl doesn't notice someone staring at them for 3 bloody weeks. 

School is shit, per usual. Only now its more depressing. 

I miss mother, I suspected I would. I feel so useless but I know I couldn't have done anything to help father. She needs him now, even if she so desperately despises him. 

She needs something, to remind her of home. 

What a pathetic woman, always relying on a man. 

Draco 

He was determined to get his life back together. The little ambition he had bubbling inside of him was flaring, he wouldn't fail everyone like his parents. He wasn't evil, he wasn't, he wasn't. That was the only thing keeping him here, he wasn't evil, it wasn't him. He could blame it all on his parents but he knew his upbringing explained his actions, not excused them. 

His arm looked worse now, red and swollen, he never dared to lift his sleeve in public. Whispers already followed him everywhere, he didn't need more haunting his dreams. They felt like those pixies he remembered from the second year, although he supposed he thought most people were like those pixies. Irritating and not worth his time. 

Lyra was doing better. She was ashamed to say it but she was enjoying school this year. It felt selfish, how could she enjoy it when everyone else looked as if they were about to take a trip to the Black Lake.

Luna helped, the girls spent more time together over time. Talking about their dreams and deep conversations about the various theories they had. She found the blonde adorable, Luna was more magical than most people. Lyra imagined that inside her brain, dancing daisy people floated around, chaotic but simply beautiful. 

They were both creative minds, bubbling with enthusiasm about the possibilities of the world. Her mind was nothing like his. 

But yet he was trapped by her, mesmerised by her, it wasn't a crush just a simple fascination. Just something to take his mind off the horror of what was his life. 

-

"Miss Larson." Professor Sprout had called her name, during a herbology class, asking her to answer the question about the life span of a Bubotube. 

"Twenty-four years on average Professor." 

"Correct, 10 points to Hufflepuff!" She hadn't even offered to answer the question so it seemed stupid she was awarded house points. But the Professor thought it was important to encourage students to speak up during class. 

-

It was the second time they locked eyes.

She sat cross-legged on the grass, sundress flowing over he grazed knees. It was a weekend now, she chose not to go to Hogsmeade, it wasn't fun when you had no one to go with. He was staring again, he had been for a while now. The wind blew through her, the fabric of her dress clinging onto her side, revealing the curve of her breast. 

She looked up, away from her book, and right into his eyes. Her expression softened smiling as one would usually do when you make eye contact. She expected one in return but she was out of luck. He looked away, angry that she had caught him.

"Well, he's very nice." She whispered under her breath, frowning. She wasn't sure what she expected him to be like. She was aware of his rude and snarky ways, more or so from her early years at Hogwarts. But it seemed now he was just damaged, he looked tortured. 

He glanced back up at her, wishing he even just knew her name, it was so stupid. He had a petty crush on some girl, he didn't even know. She wasn't even his type, Hufflepuff's who read books were certainly far from his usual go-to girl. 

"Lyra!" Neville Longbottom frantically ran over to the girl, his arms struggling to hold the enormous pot plant in his arms. 

Of course, Neville Longbottom was friends with her, what a pathetic pair. Both weak and stupid, what a match. 

But at least now he knew her name, Lyra. 

Unlike Draco, Lyra was happy, she had made friends now, she didn't expect to by any means. But her enchanting nights with Luna led her to befriend Neville and Ginny as well. 

"Morning Neville!" She was being cheerful, rushing over to help the Gryffindor balance the weight of the overly large plant in his arms. 

"T-thank you, my Mimbulus Mimbletonia grew a bit more than expected and Professor Sprout made me remove it." 

She giggled, "No problem Nev." 

Draco Malfoy watched the two from afar, he was jealous beyond belief, beyond his own belief. He looked down, playing with his boney hands, working his way up to his arms. The mark burned more than usual today. That damn fucking mark, always making him so bloody miserable. 

His mind healer had read his diary, he should have suspected she would. But he didn't, it didn't feel private anymore. He still wrote however, he held onto it everywhere he went. The green leather was less shiny then when he bought it, he didn't care. Maybe he'd buy a new diary, one for him, one for his healer. Then it would be private. 

Lyra was finally satisfied, her goals for the year ahead forgotten now focused on the little details in life. The dust on the window, the tinted windows etched with words, just little things, it was what was currently keeping her sane. 

She noticed the blonde boy more often now, he was always near her, weird considering they had absolutely nothing in common. Different houses, different year levels, she wondered if he was following her, but that sounded ridiculous. 

Lyra wondered if she should approach him, she wasn't the type to, maybe she could ask her friends what they knew about him. That was a smarter approach. 

"Nev, what do you know about Draco Malfoy?" Neville's eyebrows raised in surprise his mouth opening to say something, then closing. 

"He is, to put it nicely, not someone you would want to be friends with." 

"Why?" 

"Do you read the profit Lyra? I'm surprised you don't know."

No, she didn't read the profit, thought it was too depressing, she read it a lot last year. Remembering the way her finger traced over the names of the death list each week, making sure her parents weren't among that list.

"No, I stopped reading it last year, i-it felt a bit weird when I tried to." 

"Right yeah, I know what you mean, his father was just put in Azkaban." 

"Oh," she knew then why everyone who had been recently imprisoned was a death eater. She wrapped her arms around her legs, her knees tucked up to her chin. Wondering as to how he was coping, surely that was rough. 

"And his mother?" 

"No, no, she wasn't." 

She wouldn't pressure Neville to answer anymore, sensing his discomfort. 

"I'm sorry Neville I didn't mean-

"it's not your fault Lyra, h-his Aunt well she."

"You don't have to-

"She murdered my parents."

She wishes she had shut up and kept her thoughts to herself now, "Oh god Neville I'm so sorry." He weakly smiled at her, toying with the leaf on his Mimbulus Mimbletonia. 

"It's okay, it feels like I've got justice now, you know, with everything done." 

"T-that's good." 

The rest of the day was gloomy, she couldn't help but feel awful for asking, anaylsising the situation over and over again. She felt as if she owed Neville endless apologies. But she couldn't stop her mind from drifting to Draco, wondering if he was coping well. Probably not, considering how public his fathers arrest was. She shouldn't feel bad, his father was a very awful man, from what she could gather. 

Maybe Draco was different.


End file.
